


If this room was burning...

by orphan_account



Category: One Direction (Band), Radio 1 RPF
Genre: Bathroom Sex, Drunk Sex, Fingerfucking, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-23
Updated: 2013-11-23
Packaged: 2018-01-02 10:11:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1055538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's almost too much at once for Harry, the stretch of four fingers, the poor substitute of hand cream for lube, Nick's roughening movements, all making his hole feel likes it's on fire. Harry is starting to feel lightheaded, his breathing getting quicker and quicker, as if there isn't enough oxygen in the world to satisfy him. His skin flushing so hot, beads of sweat rolling down his front and back, almost as if the room were burning down right around him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	If this room was burning...

**Author's Note:**

> Obviously I don't know either of these people and this is purely wanton fantasy on my part.

The concrete of the wall feels a bit rough against his cheek, grating the skin there with each jostle of his body. It's distracting him just enough that he can't lose himself in the moment, in the feel of Nick's fingers working themselves deeper inside of him. It's probably a good thing, Harry always gets vocal when Nick has his fingers inside him. Or tongue, or cock, or any part of Nick really, and he can't afford to be loud with a room full of people on the other side of the door. This might not have been one of Harry's best ideas. There's too much distracting him, no way to focus and enjoy the feel of Nick, and that god awful smell wont stop invading his nostrils.

“Relax for me,” Nick whispers against the skin of Harry's neck, pressing soft kisses whenever contact is made. “Gotta breathe.”

Harry can't help but whine at that, “Trying. Fuckin' hate vanilla an-” a low grunt interrupts as Nick pulls his fingers out particularly harshly.

“We can wait till we have proper slick Love,” even as he says it Nick's fingers continue to caress the tight muscle of Harry's hole. Rubbing small circles around and around, applying more pressure so his fingertip sinks deeper in, barely breaching.

“No,” Harry protests, “Now, I want it now-want you now. Wanna feel you.”

A low sigh slips from Nick's lips even as he reaches behind himself for the hand cream on the sink's counter. Harry knows he's smiling without having to look back and see for himself. Knows Nick too well, knows how much he loves when Harry is greedy for his attention, to not know he has a soft smile on his lips. As soon as Nick unscrews the lid of the hand cream the overwhelming scent of vanilla and fig fills the air. Harry has to convince himself to keep breathing through his nose. Vanilla and fig, how overpoweringly female, why would anyone decide to bring it in, let alone leave it in a Men's Toilet?

Nick re positions himself behind Harry, using his knee to knock Harry's legs as far apart as his barely pulled down jeans will allow. Harry braces his forearms firmly against the wall to lay his cheek against, instead of the concrete, as Nick uses one hand to pull him open, and the talented fingers of his other hand to slowly push inside of Harry again.

He starts right off with two this time and Harry can't suppress the helpless groan he emits. He's been waiting so long for this. Has been patient all night, just watching the way Nick laughs and how he carries on with his friends. Those long fingers of his appearing to wrap around the entire circumstance of his red wine glass. The rings on Nick's fingers making them look even thicker than Harry knows them to be. Has felt them to be. His fingernails freshly filed down and seemingly calling out the Harry, asking to be sucked on, fucked down onto.

With ever added shot or drink to his system, Harry felt the fire growing, needed Nick to touch him with those devilishly tempting hands. Needed Nick to pay attention to him, and him alone. Thoughts and fantasies running rampant in Harry's mind until he couldn't take it anymore and corralled Nick into the nearest Men's Toilet.

“This what you needed Popstar?” Nick exhales into his ear “This what you've been gagging for all night?” Harry whines again, can't help it. “What you couldn't wait a few hours till we're home to get?” Nick takes that moment to push the ring finger of his right hand in alongside the other two already inside his boyfriend. Silently praising the smooth tight heat of Harry's arse that always amazes him. No one person should be this beautiful, and feel this good, and still be able to carry on a conversation without Nick losing interest half way through. He sometimes couldn't believe Harry Styles was real. Or what someone like him saw in Nick, he would never know.

“Fuck, Nick,” Harry quietly sucks in his breath raggedly as Nick continued to push his third finger further up “yes, just like that.” He has to bite into the meat of his arm where is mouth is lying against to muffle his harsh murmurings. The vanilla scented air completely forgotten as Harry can't help but focus on the push and pull of Nick's fingers inside him. How on each thrust in, Harry can feel the cool brush of metal from Nick's ring, the one he stole from Harry and claimed as his own. “Come on faster, please.”

Nick, always the people pleaser, especially for Harry, gives him just that. Pistoning his fingers in and out of Harry, ripping these wonderfully high pitched “uh, uh, uh's” out of him on each bruising thrust in. The hand cream isn't providing the smoothest glide for Nick's fingers, creating more of a burn inside of Harry arse as his fingers continue to speed up. Even so, Harry pushes himself further back onto Nick's hand, asking for more still, always needing and wanting more of Nick, never able to get enough of him.

He gets just that as Nick twists his hand around, until his palm is facing Harry's front instead of his back, and starts curling his fingers forward on his strokes in. “Holy shit, yes” Harry practically shouts. He's losing it, can't keep quiet when Nick's fingers press into that pleasure center deep inside of him like he keeps doing.

The new angle creates a strain on Nick's wrist and he can't fuck his fingers into Harry as fast as he was. So he makes up for what he can't give his boyfriend by rubbing his thumb into the ring of where Harry's muscle meets Nick's knuckles. Dragging his thumbnail across his perineum and up into the seem of Harry's sack and back down to caress his tight pink hole again. Spreading out the three fingers inside to stretch the silky soft walls of his arse even more.

“Shit, shit, shit Nick, shit. So good.” Harry starts to babble, “Your fingers-so good. Always so good in me. Know just what I want.” He pulls his right arm away from the wall, brings it down to his own cock and gives it a tight squeeze where it's hard and pressing against his abdomen, begging for attention. Precome already starting to dribble onto Harry's fingers.

Nick swiftly reaches the hand not inside Harry around to grab his hand off of his own cock. “Ah, ah. No touching yourself Love. You're gonna come from just my fingers, or not at all.” He says as he presses Harry's hand flat, beneath his own, against the cold of the loo's wall, lacing their fingers together. Nick moves his face, from breathing in the smell of Harry's shampoo and sweat, forward to trace his tongue along the cut of his jawline, and taste his perspiration there instead.

“Nick, please I need-” He cuts himself off with a harsh series of hiccuping gasps as Nick chooses that moment to press his pinky up and into his hole as well. A bit overwhelmed, Harry clutches his fingers around Nick's against the wall, grateful for the anchor, furrowing his brow and focusing on evening his breathing out. His cock twitching and begging to be touched, more dribbles from the slit of his head dripping down his shaft.

“I'll tell you what you need.” Growls Nick against Harry's neck. “You need to learn proper patience.” He punctuates with a harsh bite with his teeth. “You need to learn to not drag your boyfriend into seedy club toilets so often.” A quick swipe of his tongue on the abused flesh, “You need to learn to not beg to get your arse fucked while out with friends.” Nick seals his lips around the reddening skin in front of him and sucks, hard. Marking him as much on the outside as his fingers are on the inside, pushing harder and harder into his prostate.

“Niiick,” Harry's spiraling, his moaning starting to reach new levels, he loves when Nick is rough with him. Knows Nick only does it because Harry gets off on it, that Nick loves him enough to always give Harry whatever he needs, whenever he needs it. The constant waves of pleasure are making the world around Harry melt away. All that remains is Nick, and the drag of his fingers in and out of him. In, out, in, out. Pushing the flesh around his arse up as his fingers press in, pulling it back with the drag of Nicks fingers out. “Gonna-so close-,” A deep moan, “Gonna come.”

It's almost too much at once for Harry, the stretch of four fingers, the poor substitute of hand cream for lube, Nick's roughening movements, all making his hole feel likes it's on fire. Harry is starting to feel lightheaded, his breathing getting quicker and quicker, as if there isn't enough oxygen in the world to satisfy him. His skin flushing so hot, beads of sweat rolling down his front and back, almost as if the room were burning down right around him. Just as Harry is starting to think he's going to hyperventilate and actually float away on a cloud in a state of pure blissed out pleasure, Nick decides to press the tip of his thumb up into the V of his four fingers already inside Harry's arse, opening him up even further. Stretching him past his brink, pulling his used pink hole as taut as it will go, and rumbles into his ear, “Come for me Love.”

“Ngghhh,” The sound Harry makes when his body can't take it anymore can only be described as animalistic, as close to Nick's name as he can manage in his state of nirvana. His balls tightening up, cock thickening, and come shooting onto the wall in front of him. His arsehole squeezing so tightly around the fingers sill inside him, Nick can't help the slight wince of pain.

With his brain barely functioning, and the nerve endings all over his body hyper aware, Harry lets himself lean his head back onto Nick's shoulder, his knees finally buckling, and leans all of his body weight back for his boyfriend to support. His arsehole feels achy in the most delightful of ways; stretched, wet, and used. And the pinpricks of pain radiating from the darkening blotches on his neck causing a pleasant hum in the back of his mind.

Nick's free hand starts to stroke up and down against he sides, allowing Harry's body to descend from its place of meditated pleasure in its own time. “You were so good for me Love. Took it so well,” Nick says as he whispers sweet praise into the hair by Harry's temple. Permitting Harry to feel as fucked out and loved up as he possibly can in a public loo that has a room full of, both friends and strangers, on the other side of the door.

Slowly and as gently as possible Nick removes his fingers from their cage of heat in Harry's arse and pushes him softly until Harry is leaning his weight against the wall again. “Alright there, Love? Didn't hurt you did I?” He asks as Harry winces at the withdraw. Nick reaches for a paper towel from the wall dispenser to wipe the cream from his hand onto, “Wasn't too rough with you was I, Popstar?” He asks once more as he tries to discreetly readjust himself while Harry is barely with it, glancing back at him to make sure he hasn't noticed.

“Harry?” Nick quickly takes the few steps back toward Harry at his ongoing silence. He presses a firm, reassuring kiss to the back of his boyfriends neck. Asking softly again when he has still yet to get a response from him, “You alright Harry?” Concern clearly evident in his voice.

“Mmm,” Is all Harry seems capable of at the moment. The world around him slowly creeping back. “S'was really good babe.” Slurs out of his mouth as he reaches down to right his pants and jeans, ignoring his own Rorschach stains of spunk on the wall. “'M here, 'M with it.”

Nick sighs with relief, peppering mild kisses against the flourishing bruises all over his neck. He helps to tuck Harry back into his Calvin Kleins and zip up his tight trousers, giving a loving pat to his bum when he's finally all situated again. Lifting his head from where he had rested it against Nick's shoulder, Harry turns to face him and wind his arms tightly around his slender torso. Morphing his body in as close as humanly possible, Harry gently presses his lips against Nick's own, slowly moving south to mouth at the growing stubble on his chin.

He mumbles his gratitude and affection into his jaw, “So good Nick, love you so much,” as he snakes his hand forward and down to press against the bulge in Nick's trousers. “So good to me,” He sinks his teeth lightly into the hinge of Nick's jawbone. “Lemme take care of you now,” A firm squeeze from Harry's fingers.

Nick hisses in harshly at the feel of Harry's warm palm against where he wants to be touched most. “No, no. We've been in here much too long as it is.” Says Nick, an octave higher than he would've liked, as he regretfully swats away Harry's insistent grope. “And you, Popstar, were too far from quiet for us to be staying in here any longer. I wouldn't be surprised to open that door to a crowd of cameras.” he admonishes, already hating the sad look in Harry's deep green eyes. That wide eyed and innocent look is what got Nick in this predicament in the first place.

Harry pouts, quite predictably “But you didn't get to come, that's not fair.” He tries again to get his hands onto Nick. “At least let me blow you or sommat.” He says as he starts to drop to his knees, “You know I can get you to come right quick with my tongue.” An evil smirk on his face and a glint in his, once innocent, eye.

Nick groans, he wants it so bad, but he knows it's a terrible idea. People will be wondering where they got off to for so long, and surely at least a few blokes have needed to piss in the time they've been holed up in here. He can only imagine the loud sounds that Harry was making to keep anyone at bay who need to use to toilet.

“Tonight Harry, trust me.” Nick turns Harry's body till his back is pressed against Nicks front, which Harry immediately takes advantage of by pressing his bum directly on Nick's persisting bulge. “Unh...” A deep breath “Just so you know,” Falls from Nicks mouth as he pushes forward into the swell of Harry's arse, still walking them toward the door. “As soon as we get home,” They reach it and Nick unlocks the latch. He leans in, hand on the door handle, lips pressed against the side of Harry's mouth, “I plan on absolutely wrecking you.”

Harry sucks in a quaking breath as Nick crashes his mouth down onto his, lips parting instantly at the feel of Nicks tongue licking across him. His teeth bite the plump fullness of Harry's bottom lip and Harry can already feel his dick twitch in excitement at the prospect of what Nick has planned for him tonight. How wound up and agitated Nick will hopefully be, ready to push Harry around just the way he likes it. As suddenly as his mouth had attacked, Nick pulls away and yanks open the door leading back out into the club, and quickly ushers Harry out of the loo before he gets any ideas. Or Nick's self control deflates enough to take Harry up on the blow job offer.

 


End file.
